“It will take us some time as the room wasn’t readied for you, my lord.” The lady’s maid bowed her head to Fyn.
“Whatever state it is in is acceptable,” Fyn said. “I require little.”
Reluctantly, the arrangements were made. Fyn would remain entirely too close to me.
A lady’s maid awoke me early in the morning. I jolted in bed when she pulled the curtains back.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to startleyou.” Her voice was so meek it barely carried through the room. Light washed over her curly brown hair, causing it to glimmer. “I am Eva. I’ll be attending to you while you’re here. The royal family is most eager to meet you this morning, Princess Ashlyn.”
“This morning?” Of course, they would. They weren’t going to wait on me to feel like I was up for it. If they did, I’d probably remain in this room for a fortnight longer.
“My gown is in the bag.” I pointed to it. It was probably a mess. I should have laid it out when we arrived.
Her eyes widened as she looked at my bag that still lay on top of a side table. “Dresses were brought in for you. In various sizes, we weren’t really sure how tall you’d be.”
“Luckily, I’m a very standard-sized human.” I slipped out of the bed.
“Yes, quite.” She pulled the cabinet back. “You shall have whatever you require for your stay. The prince wishes for you to feel at home here.”
I ran my hands over the black velvet sofa in the corner of the room, trailing the gilded edges. “That is most thoughtful.” I would have to retrain myself to say the right things.
“Which colors do you wish to wear? Do you have a preference?” She pinched the edges of a pink gown. “Rose or indigo, perhaps?”
“Whatever fits,” I said.
“The rose would look lovely on you with your golden hair.”
I tugged at the edges of my waves. Maybe the stories about the gorgeous hair colors were a myth. The lady’s maid’s hair wasn’t enhanced.
The dress was snugger than any I wore in Lythira. Delicate pearls and golden threads framed the neckline thatdipped at the center of my chest. The bodice bore the same detail.
I sucked in a forceful breath when she pulled the ribbons tightly.
She tossed her fingers through my unkempt locks. “Many ladies wear their hair down. It is the fashion of the court for most occasions. For the feast this evening, we will style it differently.” She twisted the sides back, tucking a delicate pin into it. “Will that do for you?”
“I bet they brush it too,” I said, wishing I had stuck a comb through it after last night’s bath.
She stared at me, her brows knitting. “Have I done something to offend you, Your Highness? I’m sorry if I have.”
I would easily offend someone because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
This wasn’t the fae realm. I couldn’t say whatever I pleased. I had to be what they expected of me.
I would try to remember it. “Not at all. I just say what I’m thinking sometimes. I apologize if I was making you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all, Your Highness.” Her expression hadn’t changed. “You look lovely.”
The sight of the stranger in the mirror startled me. It had only been months since my world tilted, but somehow it felt like a lifetime.
“Are you ready?” She asked.
I didn’t think I’d ever be.
The glittering rose fabric trailed behind me as I stepped out into the hall.
Fyn leaned against the grey stone wall in a freshly pressed tunic, just as he wore around the castle in Lythira.
He lowered into a grand bow. His eyes only had a hint of a glimmer when he rose. “Did you rest well, Your Highness?”
